


To Be Alive is to Have Scars

by Nephilim



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind!Ignis, Blindness, Canon Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Ignis, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Gladio, Platonic Kissing, post chapter 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nephilim/pseuds/Nephilim
Summary: CANON SPOILERS AHEAD:Both Ignis and Gladio are struggling to cope with the aftermath of Ignis' injuries and words unspoken between them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this even though it's a little rough around the edges, it was pretty late when I wrote this.

Ignis was in pain, and there was nothing Gladio could do to stop it. 

Crimson bled across the advisor’s sharp features in a way so barbaric the soldier had doubts who he truly held in his arms was Ignis at all. His chest was heaving, face contorted and body viciously trembling with deep agony that reflected in the gruesome sight of flesh torn from a sizeable part of his once flawless face. 

The worst part was that he was conscious. As he lay in Gladio's arms he was aware, clutching at his eye defensively as blood seeped from his lip to taint the white of his teeth. 

But he wouldn't see those colours, only black. 

“Noct… Go to Noct..” Ignis commanded as if it were his dying breath. “I'm no use now.” 

Those words were bitter on his tongue as they were on Gladio’s ears. 

“I'm not leaving you, you're gonna be okay.” Gladio's voice was gritty and ragged, it wasn't as if he hadn't gained his fair share of war wounds - it all paled in comparison to Ignis’ however. 

Too pained to argue, Ignis continued to fight back any sound that may escape him - be it a whimper, scream or cry. With the world seeming to be caving around them, Gladio hesitated no longer and hoisted his companion in his arms, sprinting to find solace as the storm came to an end as Prompto sought to retrieve the Prince. 

\--

Gladio lay beside Ignis all night, his own heart sinking each time he looked at the poor man. He was not himself, he was hardly convinced it was Ignis. The man who carried himself with such subtle grace and honour was reduced to a sweating, trembling heap in the bed they shared. 

Once Noctis was stabilised and settled in the next room, Prompto sat with them for a while. The air was heavy and tense, easily suffocating the young blonde. He and Gladio would exchange knowing glances, that things were going to be a lot harder now, even if they all made it out alive. 

Prompto made soft attempts to comfort Iggy, holding his weak hand in his and pressing his knuckles to his lips to ground him somewhat, so they stayed tangible to each other. Contact was hard when the man seemed he might shatter if one were to tread too heavily. 

“You're safe Iggy, we’re here.” The quaking in the boy’s voice said otherwise, but Ignis exhaled softly all the same - a small sound of appreciation they were familiar with. Not all was lost, it seems. 

Caving under the pessimistic silence, Prompto grew tearful and restless and Gladio was no stranger to the way that boy’s lip would shake. “Hey Prom, how about you check Noct for us huh?” 

“Y-yeah.” Prompto was both guilty and grateful for taking that exit, but Gladio knew it was deep water and way out of the gunslinger’s depth. After a soft stroke through Ignis’ scruffy hair and a kiss to his hairline, the boy left the two older men behind a quietly closed door. 

That's when Ignis made a sound so unlike himself, and Gladio felt his gut sink. 

He whimpered. 

“Iggy…” Gladio wrapped his fingers around Ignis’, giving a light squeeze. “Gods know I'd do anything to stop the pain, I really would.” A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth as he spoke, voice threatening to break free a flood of guilt and shame - all for not protecting him. 

“It's not… the pain, Gladio. I'm worthless now.” Ignis panted, forcing words between laboured breaths. 

“Bullshit, you're-”

“I'm blind, Gladio.” The crownsguard released his hand in shock as his blood ran cold. Hot whiskey irises couldn't tear themselves away from Ignis’ marred face and just when he thought he couldn't feel worse, Ignis opened his lesser afflicted eye. 

Vibrant evergreen hues were faded to a foggy blue, glassy and distant - looking straight through him. Gladio felt sick. 

Silence hung between them far too long, and did nothing to sow optimism. Ignis drew a shaky breath and huffed, tears welling behind the lashes of the more intact eye. 

Before the man could even speak of his resignation, Gladio sharply cut in. “You're not worthless, Ignis. We’re not just gonna abandon you.” The mere thought hurt enough. 

Ignis stayed silent, for arguing had never been a sport of his but Gladio knew better than to expect to win him over on that alone. For now, Gladio wouldn't push his point, but that didn't mean he would stop soothing him.   
A broad arm slipped beneath the curve of Ignis’ neck and pulled him close against Gladio’s chest. Fingers brushed softly over the small of his lower back as the warrior’s free hand carefully pried back the dressing on Ignis’ eye. 

Of course, Ignis’ expression flickered in protest to the sharp pain, and anyone could see why - the wound was deep and would most definitely scar. “Shh, you've stopped bleeding now at least.” The larger man attempted to soothe. 

“You need some rest, just focus on getting better before anything else.” His tone left no room for alternatives. Of course, such an order was softened with the gentle caress of large hands over Ignis’ lean form, unfazed by the sweat, blood and tears that he seemed to be formed of. 

“Sleep easy, I've got you and nothing is gonna hurt you again.” Gladio vowed, tilting his head down to brush noses with the blind man. “I swear.” 

He lingered, lips close enough to feel the gentle breaths of Ignis. Gladio's heart ached with desires best not chased where they lay tonight, words better saved for another rainy day. Things were complicated enough. 

To Gladio’s surprise, slender fingers came to rest upon his jaw and study the angle of it. Ignis’ eyes were closed significantly more eased as he glanced up, but his lips were parted with words unspoken. Gladio wouldn't force it, not even as his thumb brushed slowly over his lower lip so longingly, not as their foreheads pressed together, nor as the injured man closed any possible distance between their bodies. 

No. Gladio would just hold Ignis for now, he would protect him. As the brunette slipped into peaceful repose, the warrior pushed his worries aside. If he could rest, so could he. 

As long as their heartbeats could be heard, there was hope, no matter how faint.


End file.
